


Couch cuddles

by orphan_account



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, connaryl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this post; onetruepairingideas.tumblr.com/post/132119050558/but-your-otp-laying-on-the-couch-with-one-on-the</p>
            </blockquote>





	Couch cuddles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunnseanicArts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnseanicArts/gifts).



The late afternoon crawled into the day, turning the burning hell of morning into a bearable early evening. Daryl had just come back from a long hunt, his body aching with strained muscles by reason of dragging the heavy buck within the walls of Alexandria. The fucker’s body not once stuck into something; a bigger rock or stump as its limp limbs spread out to every direction.

Disposing his crossbow at one of the ends of the couch, his belt was unbuckled, just like his jeans’ front was undone as the button was popped free and the zipper was pulled down all the while his mud caked boots were toed off. With the pressure off from the most ragged parts of his body, it felt like as if the blood started to circulate more freely, bringing life back into his numbed legs. 

A deep sigh of relief left him, bending forward his weight was braced on his arms onto the couch as his body was turned around and finally slumped down into the softness of the cushion. The crease between his brows eased up as sleep started to take over his mind, the darkness behind his closed eyes lulling him into unconsciousness, but something hard and heavy settled over his form, snatching him out of the daze of sleep.  
Instinctively he flinched, arms coming up above his head with a violent jerk, trying to protect his head from an expected hard hit, but instead of unmerciful fits a gentle hand found its way into the greasy strands of his hair, accompanied by a low-pitched chuckle. 

Cracking open an eye a pair of blues welcomed him, their corners wrinkling because of an affectionate smirk, blonde hair sticking up wildly. A grunt of annoyance rasped up in the back of his throat but the sound was cut off with comfortable silence as Connor continued stroking his hair, even pecking a loving kiss onto his hand’s knuckles as it was laying on his chest after he let it down from above his head.  
The said hand was raised up again as if it was just adjusted to place it next to his body onto the couch, but instead it changed where it was going in midway and stated in Connor’s hair, mirroring the other’s affectionate gesture. His fingers stroked back and forth with slow, measured, almost tentative moves, the digits caressing the man’s scalp while his own head was given the same attention from the Irish. 

Connor’s hair felt nice, surprisingly soft, and with every stroke of Daryl’s hand he could smell the man’s scent since the motion puffed little whiffs of air and because they were so close to each other - both literally and figuratively.  
Connor hummed deeply, eyes fluttering shut in delight. Resting down his head on its side on the hunter’s chest, his hair tickled Daryl’s nose but it didn’t bothered him because now Connor’s scent suffocated him, but it was welcomed. Why the closeness wasn’t annoying was way beyond Daryl’s understanding - or more like he turned his back on the question, not wanting to deal with his feelings and how to figure them out at the moment.  
Instead of pondering too much on the twisting feeling in his stomach about the other man and what exactly was their relationship and where was it going, Daryl just let go a little bit, creeping his head closer to the other’s.  
At first he just kept it there then slowly but surely the tip of his nose was buried into the softness of blonde hair, nuzzling the flesh into the irishman’s scalp, breathing in the comforting scent which made him dizzy with fucking love and a spark of arousal.

But then there it was - a choked little laugh. Connor’s body trembled lightly from the sheer effort of holding back that fucking annoying laughing which made Daryl grit his teeth together as his jaw rolled thickly.  
Pinching hard at the blonde’s side, another more forceful grunt teared up from him as he pushed off the fucker atop from him. With a loud thud Connor landed on his back onto the hard wood of the floor, all the while laughing which just urged Daryl to turn his back on him with a muttered “fucker” but privately the corner of his lips curled into a smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> Working on a new smut fic about this ship! :)


End file.
